Time Enough for Drums
by Readwriteedit
Summary: There are just some things that you never do. Like putting tin foil in the microwave... But apparently Jeffrey Tifton didn't get the memo, because there he is, carrying a drum set into the living room, despite his two-month-old son and very hormonal wife. A peek into a blistering hot August day that brought two big changes into the Tifton household. (Note: I don't own anything.)


There are some things that you just don't do. Period, end of story.

You don't put tin foil in the microwave.

You don't play in traffic.

You don't date your best friend's ex.

You don't hit elderly women with their own pocketbooks.

And you don't bring home a drum set when you have a two-month-old son and a very hormonal wife.

That was a big, huge no-no.

He should have known that. He really should have. He seemed to accept the other givens, and so it would only be natural that the last one would be followed as well.

And yet, somehow, on that blistering hot August evening—when she had just spent 2 hours getting The Infant to sleep, and really wasn't in the mood for any shenanigans—there he was, carrying huge pieces of a what appeared to be a drum set into their living room.

"Jeffrey." She spoke softly, but her tone said _"pay attention"_. "What are you doing?"

He glanced at her over the steel rim of the object he was carrying. "Just bringing some stuff in from the car."

"Ah… And what exactly is that 'stuff'?"

"Um. It's a drum set."

"Mmm. Thought so. Can I ask why it's being moved into our living room?"

"Uh, yeah. I just bought it."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. It was on sale, and so I…"

"Bought it."

"Right."

She paused for a second, surveying the mess of metal and plastic spread out on the floor.

"Well, it's going back."

He looked at her.

"What?"

"You heard me. It's going back."

"Skye, I'm not taking this set back. I just bought it, and I intend to play it."

"Okay then. Play it, and _THEN_ take it back."

"Skye…"

"Don't you 'Skye…' me. You may or may not have realized this, Jeffrey, but we have a two-month-old son upstairs who doesn't like to sleep very much! There is no way on Earth I am ever going let you play the drums until our children are fully grown and fully capable of sleeping without my aid!"

"_Children?_"

"What?"

"Skye, you just said _children_." He raised an eyebrow at her in the way she hated. "As I recall, we only have one son."

"Don't change the subject, Jeffrey Tifton."

"I'm not changing the subject, Skye. I'm trying to get some information here. You just referred to our _multiple children_, when—as of now—we only have one child. I'm trying to figure out if I should start re-painting the nursery again."

"Oh, come on, Jeffrey. You're blowing this completely out of proportion! This discussion is about drums, not the number of children we may have in the future!"

"It's an easy question to answer, Skye. Are you pregnant? Yes or no."

She was silent, just glaring at him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Come on, Skye. You answer this one little question, and then we'll talk about the drums. Otherwise I'm never going to be able to concentrate enough to hold a reasonable discussion."

"Ugh!" She sang down into the couch, pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing. "Jeffrey, you're 24 years old, and you _still_ can't argue like an adult. It's pathetic."

"It works, though. Come on, honey. Yes or no?"

"Well, since you seem so determined to spoil all my plans for this afternoon, why not? _Yes_, as a matter of fact, in about nine months we will have child_ren_ instead of just one _child_."

She struggled to keep the grin off of her face as he whooped and hollered, sweeping her up off the couch and spinning her around in circles.

"Satisfied?" He could be such a child sometimes. More so than her real child who was hopefully still asleep after their little escapade.

"Very. How about I keep the drum set, but I don't use it until our child_REN_ are done with midday naps and light sleeping?"

"Why won't you just return it, Jeffrey? That's the sensible thing to do…"

She was really much too tired to deal with this argument now...

"It was on sale…"

Sleep deprivation really did wonders for making a person give in...

"Okay, fine. But not until we're finished with naps."

"Deal."

"And Jeffrey?"

He glanced over at her.

"Yeah?"

"Well, at the rate we're going, that might be a while…"

"I'd like to hope so…"

* * *

_Eight years and five children later… _

"Jeffrey Tifton! You liar!"

"What?"

"You can't even play the drums!"

"I never said I could…"

**(End.)**

* * *

_For more stories, click on "Readwriteedit". _


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